


Grace Under Pressure

by Pseudonaut



Category: Borderlands (Video Games), Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Awkward Romance, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, References to Illness, Sickfic, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2018-11-19 09:59:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11311014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pseudonaut/pseuds/Pseudonaut
Summary: Rhys was always there for her, it seemed. Ready to laugh at her jokes when no one else would. Someone who could take her wit. Even a shoulder to cry on. Those building blocks were stacked during Fiona and Sasha's house warming. And both of them were desperate to talk about it. Just as soon as Fiona could get out of bed on her own, not needing a bucket.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a prompt but I was reading back on it the other day and thought of how much I wanted to see where this went. I left it hanging. First chapter is just the original prompt but tweaked and improved. Enjoy.

“No, no, don’t throw up in that!” Sasha screeched.

The loud shout of worry that echoed across the caravan held no weight –- Fiona unable to even stand, already retched over into her hat. The noise replacing the words Rhys managed to muster behind his grimace before she vomited into her fittingly bowl shaped attire.

“She’s been like this all day.” Sasha whined with sisterly concern, dressed as if under quarantine.

The CEO thought the gloves were slightly overkill, especially compared to the hospital mask covering Sasha’s heavy breaths.

“Can you even, like, breath properly?” Rhys asked.

With a long, muffled huff she shook her head, carefully picking up her sister’s hat and tossing the heavily mass out the open door of their new caravan. This was far from the house warming he had expected. But, then again, stopping back at Hollow Point after work he was hardly expecting them to buy another caravan. Or it being chrome. 

But, neither did he want to find his old partner in crime emptying the contents of her stomach into her favorite white, banded hat, ruining it.

He sat down, deciding it was best to be keeping a safe distance from the ill woman. Likely for Sasha's sake more than his. “How you holding up, Fiona?” 

Glassy eyes looked up from her crossed legs and slouched position. A once immaculate face was now dotted by sweat and as white as snow. Not that they’d get much of that in a cave under the desert.

The green looked so much brighter amid the pale skin. Like towers made of emeralds cast in a rain forest. Something that was always there, he had just never noticed it. And as she gestured she was fine behind a small gag, Rhys smiled comforting at her.

Sasha stepped out the main door, wallet in hand, looking to Rhys. “Sorry, but I gotta get some medicine or something for her. Don’t want puke instead of wallpaper. Think you can take care of her? At least put her to bed?”

“Are you giving me a choice?”

“No.” Sasha quipped back quickly. “Close the door if you’re leaving, I wont be long… Thanks.” The lingering woman said with a smile at her friend, earning one back.

As she left, Fiona sniffed, catching his attention again.

“Can you help me up?” Her voice was croaked and blocked, her only breaths were faint whistles from a blocked nose.

He groaned, only now getting comfortable sitting. “Can’t you do that yourself?”

She narrowed her eyes menacingly, “So you aren’t going to take care of me?”

“What can I do?”

“Help. Me. Up.” Fiona barked back bluntly.

“Expect me to carry you as well?” Rhys teased.

The sickened thief pursed her lips, trying to ignore his smug face that made her feel warm instead of boiling and still shaking. She was considering his proposition –- the realization only just setting in for him. Coughing a bit into her balled fist, Fiona waggled her eyebrows at him suggestively.

His eyes began to widen, “No way-” He shook his head and tried to avoid his embarrassment with a laugh behind the words.

Colorless cheeks were pressed against eyelids as she finally smiled. “Oh, yes… I think you should carry me to my room.” Fiona feigned faintness, “I’m far too weak!..” She place the back of her hand on her burning forehead in a mocking pose. Hoping to look as smug as she felt.

It was working. And he like that. Without warning, Rhys got up, stomping over and tucking one arm under her legs and a stronger, robotic arm under the small of her back. He lifted her with a grunt, already struggling to carry her while she remained statuesque in her pose. 

“How are you so weak?” Fiona managed to laugh through her fading voice.

“Sh-Shut up…” He practically squealed, feet clumsy but steady. Walking past the boxes stacked in the caravan to what he hoped was her room. 

Fiona purred with satisfaction, past mucus and a scratchy throat. “My big, strong, brave hero…”

Even if her words were mocking he took them anyway. Something about her voice being so close perked him up enough to move and stumble the short distance to a tiny backroom, barley enough room to hold an old queen-sized bed. 

“This you?..” Rhys said weakly in a high-pitch voice.

She nodded, and the already exhausted man rested her down on the bed, slumping over to catch some air. But Fiona sat up as soon as he did, trying to get out of the duvet her body already shaped as she dragged the covers along with her. Not wanting to question why is was so important to move that she could now walk, the suit just sat on her bed to block her way.

“What are you doing?”

“I said I wanted to go to my room, not to bed.” Fiona replied.

With a bemused look, he raised his arm and robot arm out to side to display what little space they had. “And you plan on doing what?” He mocked at his friend's lack of options. “Look, Sasha said you needed sleep-”

“And you’re listening to her now?” She spat back, loosing patience quickly from a thudding in her head.

Trying to move, he blocked her, causing the weakened woman to groan and try to push past him, both their hands flailing. He got onto his knees on the foot of the bed, pushing her back lightly, right until his larger hands pinned Fiona to the bed. Both looked up at one another amidst the squeak of the mattress and ruffling of quilts.

“As much as I want you to rest right now, it’s freaking me out how I can hold you down this easily.”

Fiona raised an eyebrow, extremely noticeable along her marbled skin. “And just what is that suppose to mean? And how does that freak you out? You carried me- I mean, not well... You’re a fully grown man.”

Rhys shrugged, “Still, not a good one.”

She smiled widely and rested her head back down on the pillow, shaping it against the back of her head. “As much as you want me to rest, huh?” The con artist ran her tongue against the back of her bottom teeth, her voice still akin to a creaking vault door. “Doesn’t look like it…”

He started with a quick laugh and raised brow, “I-I’m sorry I said anything-”

The couple seemed to examine one another, enjoying the positions they found themselves in. Fiona felt comforted being this close to him. And  _him_ of all people. Some corporate stooge who's big, dumb grin was making her heart palpitate and skip over in her chest like a jump rope.

“Humor me.” She ordered simply.

An eyebrow raised. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you said it yourself. You’re surprised how easy you can hold me down. Tell me, what happens next?” Fiona spoke softly, a want lacing her words. “Just take my mind off the pounding in my head. Please?..”

His hands trailed from her hands and down to her waist cautiously. It caused her hands free to rest on his now broad shoulders as she adjusted herself a little beneath him. His weight against her was like a hot water bottle spread throughout her body. Though she was still making heads or tails over whether she was ice cold or scorching.

“…I think I’d kiss your neck first…" Rhys said quietly with a gulp. "Maybe up to your ears, just to hear you laugh when I accidentally tickle you.”

“Oh yeah?” Fiona practically whispered, amplifying her sore throat. "I was thinking more what happens after that, Rhys."

Taking a deep breath in through his nose, he thought. Biting his inner lip as he noticeably went red. “Take your clothes off, of course. Pants first, just… desperate.”

She waited in anticipation, looking into eyes full of pondering as she gripped onto his suit jacket a bit. Her ears were tickling just from his honeyed words. Just never expecting them to come out of a mouth that that ejected more buzzwords than the vending machines.

“I’d just be... so close to you, Fiona. Make you feel better, try, at least.”

Instinctively, his heavier frame melted to fall and inch down and meet her face. Lips eager to grace, before she quickly held her gloved index finger just before his slightly opened mouth. Face full of a sudden disappointment -- and even more want. And she'd be lying to herself if she thought for a second it wasn't adorable.

“Not the best of times, Rhys.”

His brow lowered in some sadness, eyes wandering to the empty space along the tattered pink mattress. And before he could even let words or fitting innuendo role from his mouth and off his tongue, Fiona managed interrupt the man, yet again.

“As much as I’d love- And I do mean love to do this right now. I don’t want your head feeling as bad as mine before we talk about…” She used her hand now to gesture the space between them. “This.”

Slowly, Rhys got back onto his knees before standing up. Patting at the creases made on his suit, looking over her comfortingly. Mostly wanting to join her, hold her close and nurse her back to health. But health would probably follow by having to acknowledge the fact he just told one of his best friends feelings for her he barley knew he had.  “Well. In that case.” He made his way slowly to the open door, each step creaking louder than the last. “I’m looking forward too it.”

“Me too...” Fiona smiled while she teased, some color finally back to rosy up her cheeks, earning a grin back from her favorite idiot.

He let out a long sigh before moving to the door-frame. “Later, Fiona.” He practically sang as the man finally turned his back to her.

“Bye, Rhys.”

The stooge stepped out her bedroom door as Fiona fell back into position immediately, a pillow once underneath her now over her face, wanting to laugh or cry into it. Still able to hear the smooth slam of their glistening, new caravan's door shut. And as that shudder shook through her body, she started to feel just a little bit better.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to post the inspirational song last chapter and I can't be bothered to edit: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u5xZ-Qej8Ro
> 
> Tumblr: ao3-pseudonaut.tumblr.com

The gravity of what had just occurred toppled Fiona. Or she was just giddy again. Brow knitted as the con-artist tried to rationalize why Rhys being so close to her felt so right. She wasn't on medication -- or none that she was aware of. The past few days began to blur into one ache that tightened her muscles.

All that seemed to relax when he carried her. Fiona smiled a little thinking back to everything they had been through. The case of money, the old caravan, Gortys, the lies, and the guilt. Even the look on his dumb mug when she was seconds away from being ripped like paper from Kroger's knife.

Those particular thoughts soured her smile. But her hands weren't exactly clean either. She left him after all, he didn't even have the means to leave her. But both of them needed someone to blame. God only knows what she would have done if Sasha wasn't by her side after the escape pod crashed. 

"Fiona!" Sasha's half happy, half irritated voice boomed through their home. She made her way to where she hoped her sister was laying comfortably, her footsteps hitting metal and carpet before she reached Fiona's room with a smile on her face. "You look... better."

"Mask." Fiona quipped.

Sasha's eyes widened as she threw a small, full plastic bag at Fiona before putting her face mask back on.

"And I don't feel any better, by the way." The older sister commented while rifling through the varying medicine. Bottles and pills ablaze with varying colors and a medicinal smell that made her feel more sick. But she was grateful none the less, even if she felt like some perverted form of a kid in a candy shop.

"Where's Rhys?" Sasha asked, voice now slightly muffled.

Popping two large pink pills from one of the bottles, Fiona tossed them into her mouth. She cared little for the bitterness on her tongue -- in truth, it was nice to actually taste something. "He left."

"Yeah, I noticed that." The masked woman teased sarcastically. "I guess I just expected him to stay longer."

"Why's that?" 

"Because it's very boring when my sister is ill, mostly. Long way back to wherever he lives now."

"Call August." Fiona chuckled.

Sasha sighed in a fake relieved manor. "August has a real job, unlike us." 

"Fair." Fiona agreed, nodding her head a bit.

Sasha moved to sit down on the foot of her bed. Not that she needed to move far. Looking quizzically down at her sister.

Fiona still swallowed hard even after the pills were gone. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Sasha shrugged and smirked, "I was just wondering if you maybe said something that spooked him, that's all."

"Why would I even do that?"

"I'm not saying you did it on purpose." The kid sister defended herself, "It's just pretty clear you... kinda hate him."

Fiona's eyes inflated at the words coming past that hospital mask, making her pale face look almost completely white. "I don't hate Rhys..." There was some sadness trapped in Fiona's crooked voice.

Put off by that line she didn't even know she was crossing, Sasha walked back on her words. "Well, I'm sorry. That's just the impression we got-"

" _We_?" Fiona croaked, "Who's we?"

"Hey, Fi, I didn't mean anything by it, alright?" 

Huffing, the con-artist rolled over to lay on her side, exhausted from even the smallest bit of confrontation. Sasha smiled meekly, standing up again, hating to see her sister struggling.

"Felix was always so much better at this." Fiona sighed.

"Well, Felix didn't lock himself in his room to avoid sick people."

Fiona waited a bit before replying. "I always used to miss you when you did that."

Sasha swallowed harshly at her words. "...Need a nap?" She eventually asked.

She earned a nod in the form of reply.

"Glass of water?" Another gave Sasha a bigger smile, even if it was covered up. 

Hearing Sasha move to the kitchen, the sound of the faucet flooding a tall glass with water -- it was relaxing. Fiona only wished her sister's words could be flooded away with them. The thought that the impression she gave them towards Rhys. It hurt more than her sinuses did.

 

* * *

 

"You busy?" Rhys asked through his echocom, comfortably taking a backseat ride in an Atlas vehicle across the Pandoran desert. 

"I'm bored. Things kinda slowed down after we killed a giant Vault monster and went on with our lives. So you must have a pretty important reason to call me?" Vaughn replied with bemusement.

"Yeah, a very important reason." The CEO chose to ignore the light bitterness in his friend's tone, "Scarier than a Vault monster..."

"What's scarier than a Vault monster?"

Rhys furrowed his brow while looking down at his lap. "Feelings."

Vaughn let out a disgusted noise, "Ugh, feelings. I hate those." He chuckled a bit, sitting down on an old desk chair facing the communications console. "So, what's up. bro?"

"I visited Fiona and Sasha."

"Oh, nice!" Vaughn sounded as if he were reminiscing. "How are they?"

"Good. Well, not good actually, Fiona's ill, Sasha's freaking out."

"How's the house?"

"They chose a caravan." Rhys replied with a smirk on his face.

Vaughn laughed. "But anyway. You wouldn't have mentioned you seeing them if something wasn't bothering you about it."

The company car bumped up and down against the rocks, making Rhys jump with it. He wasn't expecting talking about what just happened to his best friend to be so hard. Just thought the words would roll out his mouth like he was drooling on the pillow again. "Sasha went out to get some medicine and I was left with Fiona."

"Oh man, what happened? She hit you again?"

"What? Why would she hit me?"

"Why wouldn't she? You don't exactly get on."

He chose to ignore his friend's comment and reiterate. "She didn't hit me so much as she..." Rhys whined a bit, "Hit  _on_ me..."

"Well..." Vaughn started after clearing his throat in surprise. "I take back my previous statement. But you're not there now, so?.."

"I played it cool, I played it cool. Then I left and started hyperventilating bad."

"Of course."

"But- It was so weird. She was vulnerable and saying nice things to me then asked what I'd do to her when she was better. I won't get into it, I just didn't think sick people could be hot." The businessman slumped back in the backseat vibrating against the sand, running a hand through his hair.

"What are you going to do?"

"She said she wanted to talk about. Loved to talk about it, actually. Which is a good sign. Still scared as hell. I mean, it's Fiona..."

Vaughn stroked his beard a bit, "And you say that like it's a bad thing?" He asked.

"No, just." Rhys rubbed his eyes and lowered his voice, "Scary thing."

"Scary's good, man. Scary's great. Keeps you on your toes." He smiled reassuringly, even if his friend couldn't see it. "Besides, you can both think on it while she's getting better, right?"

"Yeah. I suppose." Rhys smiled back. "Thanks."

"Any time. We'll talk later, okay? Just don't do anything stupid."

The CEO bit his lip and thought for awhile. "I probably wont. Probably."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: ao3-pseudonaut.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the wait, by now you probably should stop putting faith in my timing. If you had any to begin with. Still, hope you enjoy.
> 
> Tumblr: ao3-pseudonaut.tumblr.com

It was awkward, standing on her doorstep so long. Mostly because that doorstep was narrow and elevated, Rhys having to grab onto the caravan's railing with his free hand just to stay upright. He held a bouquet of flowers in his robotic one, a colorful assortment of purples roses, white lilies with sunflowers and a few sprigs of recently sprouted allium seeds.

He wasn't going to tell her he cultivated the plants from a lab in an off-world Atlas base. Nor was he going to mention what chemicals they were being sprayed with, looked dangerous after all. Still, they smelt nice and the nervous looking man hoped she'd appreciate it. It was the thought that counted, after all.

Fiona stumbled her way to the door, answering in pajamas and a croaky voice. "I... did not expect flowers."

"Neither did I, honestly."

"Why get them then?" She asked.

Rhys shrugged as he offered them to her, quickly stepping off the step inside. "Just felt like something people did."

The sick woman took the bouquet, holding them up to her nose, barley able to pick up the sweet scent past a blocked nose. He didn't reply, just watched as she tried to smell the flowers to no avail. There was a certain sadness to it, he'd call it poetic if Fiona wasn't the one holding the bouquet. But maybe that made it even more so. Something so rare on Pandora that she couldn't even relish in the scent if she wanted too.

She let out a groan that turned to a puzzled expression, her hands searching around. "What do you do with flowers again? Been a hell of a long time since I've seen any." Fiona chuckled sheepishly.

"You serious?" He asked, sitting down more comfortably on her sofa.

"Dead serious."

"You put them in water. God, it's so sad that I had to tell you that." Rhys said as he put his face in his hands.

"Shut up, asshole. Not everyone has flowers or rain." She spat back before moving to run her tap, placing the flowers under the cool jet that came out. "Like that?"

"No, just put them in a glass or something."

She obeyed, placing them in an empty glass.

"A taller one with water in it."

Letting out a disgusted noise, Fiona rolled her eyes as she filled a pitcher with water half way and placed the flowers in. She put them on the counter, presenting them to Rhys who clapped half-sarcastically with a little grin on his face.

"I hate when you look so damn smug."

"No you don't." He purred, "Feeling better?"

Fiona smirked and moved her hand off the pitcher, walking over to the man and sitting next to him. "Nope." 

"Well, at least you can walk." Rhys replied, surprisingly more serious, as if searching for anything reassuring.

"I could always do that. Just prefer to be carried." She teased with a smirk showing many intentions.

"I-I'm sorry about your hat."

"Funny thing is I didn't even puke from being ill, it was just something I ate." Fiona didn't sound please through sniveling.

"A true story to tell the children." He quipped sarcastically.

She let out a teasing, gravelly hum of approval. "Sound like you're already thinking pretty far ahead."

Wanting to reply with another flirtatious sentence eager to crawl off his tongue, the CEO opted to heir on the side of caution instead. He turned a little to face her, a window behind her shining sunlight through, eclipsed by her figure. She looked like a breathing mural, even with skin as pale as chalk.

"We need to talk about this, right?" Rhys sighed.

"Kids?" Fiona replied, recoiling a bit.

"No, no, no." He blabbered at a mile a minute. "Just us."

"I've thought about you awhile. Just figured that being ill was a good excuse to butter you up."

"That does sounds very like you."

She winked at him before coughing into a balled hand. Rhys placed a comforting hand on her, making her perk back up. His smile was warmer than the sun on her back, how could anyone resist wanting to hear such sweet things come out of it? Even if it did spout some of the most stupid things she had ever heard.

"How long?" He asked

"Awhile after we opened the Vault. Just started to realize how much I missed you. Missed my friend." Fiona's eyes focused on his hands tapping impatiently on his own knees. "Then, after awhile, I decided I wanted you. Sort of just happened. Woke up one day and thought of you in a whole new light."

"I've thought about you in that way. Before the Vault. Jack was very distracting. Never expected anything to come from it."

"Why not? 

"Didn't think you could ever like a lying, corporate jackass." Rhys replied.

Fiona started to cough again, bending over a bit. He offered a hand on her back but she gestured it away, instead pointing towards a cabinet. "Think you could grab some cough syrup and a spoon?"

"Thought you could walk?"

"I suddenly seem incapable." She sang sarcastically. 

As he stood up, he used his hands to help him, playfully slapping down on Fiona's leg, making her jump a bit and giving him another smug smile. Walking over the cabinet she pointed too he picked up a purple bottle of strong smelling syrup while searching for a spoon. 

Watching him work always amused her. It wasn't unlike watching spaghetti twirl around a fork, just arms flailing madly, clearly eager to get back to her. Eventually, he did, handing her the bottle and spoon. She shook her head suggestively, grinning as she did.

Tilting her head a bit, she spoke up, "You give it to me."

"I'm not even going to ask why, this is clearly some form of foreplay and I haven't decided if I'm into it."

"Gets you closer to me eventually asking you out." Fiona shrugged in reply while sniffing.

With that, Rhys got his noodle arms back to work, twisting off the cap with his robotic fingers. Getting the metal spoon ready, he poured a stream of thick purple liquid onto the spoon. He aimed at her now open mouth, slowly moving the receptacle towards it and missing, hitting her upper lip.

Her face scrunched up with disapproval as she moved her head to drink the medicine, also saving him some embarrassment. Fiona couldn't exactly blame a man with one eye for missing. Though she expected the Echo eye to compensate. The feeling moving down her sore throat was as chalky as she looked.

"Yep, that makes me feel sick..." The con artist almost whispered to avoid the spreading the taste around her mouth.

"Funny how that works." He started saying, "Meant to make people feel better but tastes like shit."

She laughed at his informal explanation, a real and hearty laugh that sounded hoarse and feeble. But, finally calming down with a long breath out her mouth, able to look him in the eyes again and ask him a question. Her heart raising, throat cooled and soothed, plucking up her courage. 

"Rhys, do you wanna go out some time?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect a wait for the next chapter as I would much rather work on I Just Imagined Life Without You. But that's still Rhyiona so I hope that's okay.
> 
> Tumblr: ao3-pseudonaut.tumblr.com


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a long while since I updated this so excuse me if it feels like I'm using the setting to familiarly get back into it. Because I totally am. 
> 
> Tumblr: ao3-pseudonaut.tumblr.com

One day at a time. That's what Felix told her the first time she remembered being ill. They never did go on a date -- Fiona was still ill and aching, but she was getting better. From her perspective it felt more like a treadmill with just as much of the gross fluids that came with it.

Rhys was still coming around anyway. He figured if they couldn't go on a date at a sleazy Pandoran restaurant he knew she'd insist upon taking him they'd have a good chance of getting shot. So instead he thought it best to go around to a sleazy van in the middle of a dark alleyway. 

Why did he like her again?

Her smile? Her laugh? Her hair and the way she pushed it out of her eyes with sloppily painted fingernails and a sly raising of her cut eyebrow? The way she always had an amazement locked in her eyes, like she was excited to see everything and everything? The way she masterfully hid all of that?

He remembered now.

Déjà vu struck him as he stood at her door for the third time in recent memory, a pang of guilt at knowing how much she'd rather be out, doing her heists and hustles. But in hindsight maybe it was better she wasn't robbing people blind, and being good at while it happened.

That thought made Rhys smile -- made him eager to see her. He hadn't felt this way about anyone in a long time. Like his heart was trying to climb out of his chest and up his throat. Joke's on his organs for not having arms, else he'd be screwed.  

His arm outstretch so that a balled fist could rasp lightly against the metal door, emitting loud clangs. He heard a quick bustle from inside before Fiona opened the door, sheepishly. Her eyes were red, but not red from illness, far more veins and puffiness. But she smiled back at him nonetheless, expecting him.

"Hey." Fiona said unintentionally softly.

"You okay?" He asked. "Besides being sick, I mean.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. It's nothing..."

"Doesn't look like nothing." He added, noticing both tear marks along her cheeks and the fact she still looked stunning without makeup.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you." 

She moved to let him in. The cold hit him fully as he did. It wasn't cold enough to give him chills, but it was enough to notice his eye dry up from. He figured she must have been burning up from the inside from whatever she had. But he didn't have the heart to tell her that actually making herself colder wasn't going to help.

There was a clutter of blankets and empty tissue boxes along the sofa -- she clearly had trouble moving once she got out of bed. The TV was muted, but still on. It was almost amazing how different her own little area looked compared to the rest of the caravan.  

"Ignore the mess, I'm waiting for Sasha to come home with a hazmat suit and enough cleaner to peel paint."

Rhys laughed a bit at this.

"I'm not joking." She replied.

"Oh, shit."

"I know, right?"

"Sad that your hibernation is ending? That Sasha's going to get one of those industrial strength power washers and turn it on you?" He continued to pry.

"Shut up." Fiona coughed while sitting back down. "Alright, fine. I was crying because everything I'm sad about is fake." Fiona groaned, dabbing fresh tissues at her now wet skin instead of her nose. "I'm crying over static and pixels."

"Really? Crying over a TV show? What an ironic lack of resolution." Rhys quipped with a smile.

Fiona looked up at him, half angry, half embarrassed, swallowing harshly. "It was really sad."

"Come on then, you have nothing _real_ to be sad about." 

Fiona snorted, "Yeah, but that's pretty damn sad in itself." She sighed, "It's because I'm ill. I never get attached to things. _Anything_."

Rhys had a look of disbelief along with his wry smile. "Nothing? Not even boyfriends?"

"You're not supposed to bring up stuff like that on a first date."

"This is a date?"

"I thought so. We've spending time together, alone."

He shook his head, "Yeah, but that sounds fairly standard for us."

Fiona leaned her head back, feeling her airways clear slightly. She dragged a blanket over herself and closed her eyes in frustration. "What are we doing then?"

"I guess we're both learning." Rhys shrugged.

"Could have happened under better circumstances."

"I didn't want to wait."

This response earned the man a little grin from her. She patted a place next to her with her hand, and Rhys happy to accept any offer to be closer to her, sat down with Fiona. He could feel the heat radiating off her -- she was almost boiling. He couldn't imagine how she felt. 

"Feeling better illness-wise?" He asked.

She nodded a little, the lack of effort put into the motion summing up how she felt. "Little bit. One day at a time."

"You are talking about being ill, right?" 

"A bit of both. A lot to think about after you tried to kiss me."

"Hey, you...coerced me into it. Like a super-hot snake."

"I am pretty slippery, thanks." Fiona said, sniffing loudly -- her voice noticeable more strained after she moved her head forward from nodding. "See what I mean? What are we doing? Things can't ever been simple between us because it's too late for that. We know each other, we know people who know each other, it just complicates things."

"That doesn't mean I don't want to do it."

"Yeah, but how do we do it? We're too far from dating. I want to go out with you but we do that anyway! It just...wouldn't feel different." Fiona looked into his eyes as he almost hovered next to her, likely avoiding whatever germs radiated off her. "I want that spark I'd get with anyone else -- if I wanted them. But with you."

Rhys placed a hand on her lap, not expecting such honesty. "Why ask me out in the first place then?"

"I just kind of hoped things would fall into place. Things tend to work out for me. It's why I'm not dead."

"Fair."

Fiona could feel his touch through her blanket. It was cool, at least compared to her. Even knowing she was surrounded by the cold of her caravan it didn't compare to contact from someone else. The way skin stuck to a surface for just a second before peeling away. She needed that. 

"Rhys?" Fiona croaked. "Could you do something for me?"

"Anything. Well. Mostly anything. Anything legal, basically-"

She let out a groan that was common whenever his tangents started. "Think you could put your hands on my face? I imagine that metal is pretty chilled from being in here. Just feel like my head is burning and nothing's helping..."

The cyborg's eye searched around for a moment before he slowly began to reach out to her face. The softness of her cheek on his thumb of the only hand he could feel. The little twitch of her eyebrows and the way it shifted against the light dampness of her skin.

Fiona felt his robotic hand sooth her far faster than the one still made of flesh and bone. But both felt like medicine. Instant relief against her temples that were boiled and throbbing. She felt his thumbs move cautiously over her closed eyelids, the chill reaching the back of her eyes.

It was so soothing, so symbiotic that the woman felt a small, audible moan of satisfaction inside her mouth. This no-doubt made him grin smugly. She could picture it now. But the cold weight on all the right places of her face felt like ice cubes -- sufficient distraction compared to his amazing and stupid face.

He turned his hands over and pressed the back of them against her forehead, allowing her eyes to reopen. She sighed with content and place her own hands behind her head.

"You're going to make a girl, namely me,  _very_ happy one day, Rhys." Fiona purred.

"Want me to rub your back as well?" He said sarcastically.

"Yeah."

"Dug myself into that one."

"Don't worry. When I'm better I'll give you a back-rub as well."

"Until then?"

She didn't answer. She just kept on smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best descriptive-wise but it's been months since I've written properly. Still like to think my dialogue is pretty on point, but please tell me what you think. 
> 
> Tumblr: ao3-pseudonaut.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: ao3-pseudonaut.tumblr.com


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